Tag Archives: codependency

Several years after I was out of the relationship with my ex, my mother received a phone call from a detective in Boston wanting to know if I was alive.

My mom told him that I was. He asked when the last time we had spoken. She had told him it was about a week prior. He explained that he needed confirmation from me that I was indeed alive and to contact him at the phone number he provided. He explained that my ex had tried to developed a photograph at a local pharmacy which depicted a naked woman hanging from a tree by her wrists, bound, blind-folded, ball-gagged, and severely beaten. He claimed that the woman in the photo was me.

My mother was of course shocked but told me to call the detective. I did not believe it was the cops, I thought it may have been him posing as a police officer. Instead, I called the police department’s main number myself and asked for said detective. The story checked out. I was asked to come down to the police station to verify who I was, and that I was alive.

I took the ride and met the detective. He showed me the photo and I verified my identity. He asked me if what happened in the photo was consensual. I said that it was. The detective seemed taken aback. I did tell him at that time I wanted the photo destroyed and that was confused to me as to why my ex had been developing it in the first place since it had been years since we had split up.

The officer assured me that he would make sure he had put the fear of God in my ex about distributing a photo like this and the implications it would have for him if he didn’t destroy it.

As to why my ex had kept it all those years? Like many Sociopaths, particularly those who are sexual sadists, most acquire trophies from their victims. This photo of me may be a trophy of his handiwork. He can re-live that day over and over again by looking at it.

That was the last I heard of him until two months ago when I received a Facebook friends request, which I promptly deleted.

I often read other blogs here on WordPress of both victims of Narcissism as well as a few Narcissists themselves. I have been watching Sam Vatkin’s videos on YouTube for years. I also have been watching Richard Grannon on YouTube for near as long as well.

It would seem that I am doing a good job of staying no contact, despite the two hoovers he sent my way. One came 1.5 years after he discarded me, the other five years later. I am left with a morbid curiosity as to why he ever hoovered me so far out after discarding me. I may well never know.

What I do know is that there is life after a Narcissistic Sociopath. I eventually did go on to meet a new guy. It’s only when one door closes they say that another can open.

Not long after he shared his fantasy of his torture chamber with me. I was in my home and received a call from him. He told me, “you should really check the unsolved homicides from 1995-1997 in Boston.

So indeed I logged onto the Massachusetts State police website and told him, “I see X amt. of victims here. They are both male and female. They have a wide range in age and ethnicity. The manner of death varies as does both the manner and means in which their bodies were disposed.”

I continued, “I’m not seeing any identifiable pattern of behavior that would tie any of these victims together.”

He replied, ” No, that’s right you don’t.”

So I questioned, “why did you have me go check on these specific unsolved homicides from these 2 years?“

Nothing

“Did you have anything to do with these?”

Silence

Then…..quiet laughter.

Then, “goodnight Lexi.”

Then the phone hung up.

The following day I phoned the Massachusetts State Police and asked to speak to a detective. I ended up talking to one and told my entire story. Highlighting his sexual sadism and impulsive violence, the photographs I saw of the pummeled, black and blue woman, on through to the animal killing story, to the sexual fantasy of wanting to abduct a teen.

Sadly, the detective thought that my claim was outrageous, my credibility nill , and he consequently dismissed me as a crackpot. He told me he would “ keep a report on file.” This I knew to be a lie. I felt like this sexual sadist was above the law. I was pretty sure he believed he was above the law too.

I felt hopeless that day, but things were about to change and a Higher law would set things right.

Of course I knew he might be into S&M when he asked me at the beginning of our relationship to enter into a BDSM contract. I was walking in with my eyes wide open. He said that the use of kink would build trust and bring us closer. Closer than vanilla couples. That, appealed to me after having been wounded by a would-be good guy in a “normal” long-term relationship. He said it may involve some light bondage and pain but nothing that I wasn’t comfortable with. That we would never do anything that I wasn’t comfortable with. Which all felt like I was going to be in charge of what going on.

The oldest trick in the book: The illusion of control.

I was green at that time and knew nothing of this subculture. I didn’t know jargon like: SSC (Safe, Sane, and Consensual) and RACK (Risk Aware Consensual Kink). He was certainly not going to tell me either. That was the point, to leave me in the dark and to leave him with all the knowledge and power.

In due course I did learn that he like to inflict pain. He like to spank using his hand. He like to use a paddle, crop, flogger, whip, cane, nipple clamps, hot wax, Ben Wa balls, anal plugs, ropes, blindfolds, handcuffs, ball gags, whatever the hell he wanted. Bloody yes he had all the tools a good dominant doing BDSM would have in his bag-o-tricks.

He asked me one night to go pick out some porn to watch for the evening. This was awkward for me because at this point in my life, I had only seen maybe a few porn movies period. He had an extensive porn library. There was very little of what you could consider soft-porn. You know, mom getting pile-driven, doggy style in the bedroom. I mean there was one like that and maybe two MILF type genre CD’s. But the vast majority were really fucked up stuff. Titles like: Granny’s Gone Wild: depicting elderly women getting poked, Transsexual 3-way Fun, Gangbangs 3, Incest Fantasies, Down on the Farm, Raw Pussy Hardcore Beatdown, Teens Bound 2 Cum, Forced Fucking, Hardcore Bitches-n-Pets. I was in absolute shock but tried to look outwardly like I was okay with this. I mean, I was such a people pleaser at this point in my life, God forbid, I might offend him by looking like the wind just got knocked out of me.

After viewing the titles, I deferred to him to pick one out and he picked one of the more violent films. We sat naked in bed and began to watch. The movie began with the young girl literally being first verbally degraded by two men. I cringed. Then it escalated with her being slapped across her face numerous times. He sat motionless. Then in the film they began beating her down. Kicking her a few times while she begged for them to stop. More intense slapping, choking her, all the while degrading her verbally. I watched in horror, not just at the film but more so at him. For as he watched, he quickly got an erection with each scream she made, each plead, as the violence being inflicted upon her increased, the harder he got. Conversely, I was so calcified from watching as if reflexively, I put my bathrobe on.

I realised at that moment, I was sitting in bed with a sexual sadist.

Yet, my emotional connection to him wouldn’t allow me believe that. I wanted to believe that this was just some sort of small piece of him. That this couldn’t possibly real. Because he had the capability of being sweet. Gentle. Caring. This, what I was taking in right here, right now was incompatible with that sweet man. This was a dichotomy. One that I could not explain. So I stuffed it away down into the recesses of myself where I could not even hear my own thoughts.

However, somewhere in me, deep down, I knew that the dream I had with this man of marriage, a home, raising kids, and a dog named Scruffy was all about to go right out the proverbial window.